


Forever Tastes Like Waffles

by Magnavox_23



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnavox_23/pseuds/Magnavox_23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re not dreaming, but this isn’t quite real…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Tastes Like Waffles

There’s that indeterminate amount of time between sleep and consciousness in the morning. A time when each sense in turn is brought back into being. There’s a fog in your mouth, courtesy of last night’s beverage of choice. The smell of sweat and sex surrounds you, crawling up your nostrils and inviting some damn fine images into your brain. And you can feel that pleasant ache in your muscles, one that reminds you just how much you’re fucked, loved, owned.

In this time of wakeful half sleep, your eyes refuse to see. Sealed shut by sleep encrusted lids and veiled in long soft lashes. The sunlight shines through Jack’s window, an angry red against the back of your eyelids and you bury yourself further into the pillows.

You’re lulled by the sounds of soft footfalls in the kitchen, the not so quiet clanging of pots and pans, and the tapping of a teaspoon’s song against a porcelain mug. Special Ops, you say?

You’re not dreaming, but this isn’t quite real, a halfway house between fantasy and reality. You’re not sure which you’d like best, but the decision is up to you no longer. 

The bed dips as you feel his heat around you. Smiling into the pillows, you allow him to roll you over on your back. Open to attack from the sun’s rays, he quickly shields your face with his body. His breath so close to your face is warm.

A full bottom lip slides against your own. Greeting, teasing; until you acquiesce with a groan and return his kiss. He’s warm and wet, and tastes of syrup and batter, a prelude to the morning’s buffet. This is his kiss, his love. This is forever.


End file.
